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chadmsirois:

Albert Edelfelt (1854-1905)


Sail

chadmsirois:

Albert Edelfelt (1854-1905)

Sail

typeworship:

Globe Jotter

These wonderful hand-painted globes are by Laura Maxcy, of Mississippi. Each vintage globe is drawn on directly using paint pens and then sprayed with a protective coating. 

As someone who’s not a fan of the pastiche quote posters that seem so ubiquitous, I love the connection between the sayings, the lettering and the globes. It’s this combination that gives the otherwise trite captions a twist of wit and whim.

“Although I got my degree in graphic design, I needed a creative outlet that didn’t involve staring at a computer screen all day. I started hand-lettering quotes on vintage landscape prints I found at a thrift store, with which I planned to decorate a room in my house. Instead I decided to list them on Etsy, along with my painted globes. Each of my items are definitely unique and one-of-a-kind.”

coolerthanbefore:

bulletsforamerica:

Reblog. Every. Single. Time. Always.

The greatest generation

coolerthanbefore:

bulletsforamerica:

Reblog. Every. Single. Time. Always.

The greatest generation

humansofnewyork:

"I don’t understand my feelings. Sometimes I feel sad and I don’t know why. Then sometimes I feel silly, and I don’t know why either. Now I feel ‘wow,’ because this is my very first interview."

Childhood

humansofnewyork:

"I don’t understand my feelings. Sometimes I feel sad and I don’t know why. Then sometimes I feel silly, and I don’t know why either. Now I feel ‘wow,’ because this is my very first interview."

Childhood

Respect

Respect

humansofnewyork:

"What was the happiest moment of your life.""My first day of school.""Why was that?""Because I got to meet new people.""Who was the best person you met?""My teachers."

BOOM!

humansofnewyork:

"What was the happiest moment of your life."
"My first day of school."
"Why was that?"
"Because I got to meet new people."
"Who was the best person you met?"
"My teachers."

BOOM!

Happy belated (better than beheaded) valentines day

Happy belated (better than beheaded) valentines day

typeworship:

Fleshy Type

These might be the ugliest, creepiest letters I’ve ever seen. I almost hesitate to post them here, however I’m feeling a little bit scarred by them so I had to share.

The Human Type, letters spell out the name of the French studio that made them; Kerozen. Based on photos of the studio members, the images were mapped onto the letters and adjusted in Photoshop.  

‘Thanks’ to sarahschloo for showing them to me.I’m going to stop looking at them now. 

Holy cow that’s weird.

humansofnewyork:

"My wife gets upset when I don’t answer her text messages. Sometimes I’ll be at work, and I’ll get a text, but then I’ll forget about it. And I’ll remember it when I’m almost home, and try to answer it really quickly before I walk in the door. But it’s too late."

My life.

humansofnewyork:

"My wife gets upset when I don’t answer her text messages. Sometimes I’ll be at work, and I’ll get a text, but then I’ll forget about it. And I’ll remember it when I’m almost home, and try to answer it really quickly before I walk in the door. But it’s too late."

My life.

humansofnewyork:

I was on a commercial flight yesterday, heading back from a visit to Atlanta, when the captain announced that the plane was transporting the body of a slain serviceman. I was sitting at the back of the plane, so when we finally arrived at LaGuardia, I had to wait several minutes for my turn to exit. When I finally stood up from my seat, the scene was surreal. The entire left side of the plane was empty. But everyone on the right side of the plane was still in their seats— faces pressed against the window. I walked past thirty rows of seats before I finally found an open window, and could see what everyone was looking at. The soldier’s name was Ibraham Torres.

The price of freedom.

humansofnewyork:

I was on a commercial flight yesterday, heading back from a visit to Atlanta, when the captain announced that the plane was transporting the body of a slain serviceman. I was sitting at the back of the plane, so when we finally arrived at LaGuardia, I had to wait several minutes for my turn to exit. When I finally stood up from my seat, the scene was surreal. The entire left side of the plane was empty. But everyone on the right side of the plane was still in their seats— faces pressed against the window. I walked past thirty rows of seats before I finally found an open window, and could see what everyone was looking at. The soldier’s name was Ibraham Torres.

The price of freedom.